Lies: the trilogy
by hanjuuluver
Summary: oneshot. compleate crack. what happens when Al is chassed by a shadowfurbyvampireNarutoCaptain Jack assassin? well I ain't tellin! you'll have to read! flamers welcomed.


Before reading this, you should keep in mind that it is the product of me and two of my friends sitting around in a circle and writing stories at about three sentences at a time. In other words, I write 3 sentences, then give it to NinjaSquirls (who has 2 of these posted that you should really check out plus one other one that is actually normal. Tis a poem/song thingy… ), who writes 3 sentences and gives it to Hannah, who writes 3 sentences then gives it to me, and so on and so forth. Also keep in mind that 2 of us were/are obsessed with FMA, the other with Jane Austin. Well, now that you have been sufficiently **_WARNED THAT THIS FIC IS INCREDIBLY RANDOM AND STRANGE_**, I may now continue on with the fic of doom in all its random glory.

Disclaimer: the characters are not mine, nor is the sanity I should probably possess…

**Lies: the trilogy**

It was a dark and stormy night, clouds like infinite seas of gray tapioca hung down around his feet as he ran. Ed couldn't help him now, as he was still at home, baking some cookies. This, however, did not change the fact that he had a psychotic serial killer behind him, after his life.

The serial killer, dapper, dark and dashing was an assassin of some note, not a serial killer, but Al knew little of that. He was more concerned with the fact that a malicious cloud had attached itself to his foot and would not let go. He was immobilized and now helpless. "Wait a second!" Al gasped, and pulled open his chest plate, revealing a small-but-powerful mini-nuclear reactor/Hello Kitty toaster. The blinding glow caused the black shadow to writhe in pain, shrinking away from him, and left Al free to face the assassin.

"Everything has a purpose," he said randomly for no reason at all.

"Yes. Fancy a lemon bar or some pound cake?" the Assassin with a capital A said hospitably. "You're in my living room after all."

"You live here?" Al said confusedly. "How...wet?"

"Yes, it is rather," said the Assassin congenially. "Would you fancy going down to the pub for a pint or seven? We can get all dried out and warmed up. Then you can die comfortable and drunk instead of damp and out of sorts."

"That sounds pleasant" said the suit of armor. "But I think I'm a bit young."

"Young!" said the Assassin; "You're seven feet tall!"

"Who are you calling so short he gets beat up by bugs!" someone shouted in the distance.

"Does he really?"

"Yes, now that you mention it. By the way, could you turn on some lights so I can see you properly? The lights were flicked on , and there in front of him stood a giant Furby Mountie assassin wielding a cheese grater, an umbrella, and a retractable machete.

"Dang it! Bloody infinite probability machine. Hold on—" things shimmered. Eggplants flew across Al's vision.

"Uh…" he said.

"There." The Assassin said cheerfully. He now looked vampire instead of Furbish. Equally scary-well, not really, because Furbies are truly terrifying, while vampires have trouble pronouncing 'w' which lessens the fear factor.

"That vas vary peculiar and unexpected." The vampire lisped. "I didn't know this gloomy hilltop has lights… vait a second—ve're on a stage!"

"With shiny things! I like shiny things! Wait! I _AM_ shiny! Yeay me!" Al then proceeded to poke himself with a stick.

"No, not a stage." Said the vampire, recalling his Assassin teaching, which had removed the lisp. "Are we going to the tavern or not?"

The Assassin stood up, dusting off the seat area of his black trousers.

"Wait a minute," said Al. "You look kind of familiar. Haven't I seen you in a crossover before?"

"Um, no!" cried the assassin, eyes widening. "Of course not! Why would you think that? We've never met."

"Are you sure," said Al craftily. He made a sudden lunge and jumped at the assassin, pulling off a black wig and unbalancing him from his stilts. "I thought so!" Al said happily. "Long time no see, Naruto!"

"How did you know it was me?" Naruto asked.

"It's rather hard not to. You were wearing your Village of the Leaf head band."

"Oh. I forgot about that." Naruto said, poking the shiny part of his head band with a forefinger. Scenes then shivered, and Naruto was shimmered into Captain Jack Sparrow.

"Who am I? I've lost track. Really, this is ridiculous!" exclaimed… shadow/furby/vampire/assassin/Naruto/Captain Jack Sparrow… thingy. "IO think I'm a refrigerator. That would explain this idiocy.

"You know, it wouldn't even come close," Al said. "We really desperately need to be very drunk right now. I'm sure all this would make much more sense if we were drunk."

"Right-o" said Captain Jack. "My young friend, it's far past time to introduce you to the pleasures of… RUM! Yay rum!"

"We should invite my brother!" said Al.

"We should have a drinking contest" crowed Sparrow.

Then Roy randomly appeared and blew up all the rum.

"Why is the rum _ALWAYS_ gone!" Jack cried dispiritedly.

"Fine. Ale it is," the thingy-Jack Sparrow, Roy, and Al disappeared into the tavern to drink and brawl till… the Morrigan appeared?

Well, she did.

But in a bizarre twist of fate, she appeared in Roy's glass. He never noticed, and the three proceeded to get drunk far into the night and out into the street.

The End.

A/N: I warned you! So now review!


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